Marvel: Broken Web
by Perry-Gray
Summary: This is my first try at Marvel stories, so let's see how this goes. Please leave a review if you have the time, it really lets me know what I'm doing right and what I could improve on. Thank you.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

There he went, swinging past skyscrapers, a streak of red and blue. Our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Even as he goes by, you could always tell that he was smiling underneath that mask of his. He doesn't have any higher purpose, an organisation giving him orders, or even a team to speak of. No, in a way he's on his own, truly free with his gifts, but what does he do with them? Saves the poor and abused, protects the innocent. He helps people, without glory or the promise of reward. All that freedom, all that power, and he still protects people for no other reason than "it's the right thing to do."

The Daily Bugle would have had you believe he's a menace, a vigilante without any regard for the law. The NYPD has a more mixed opinion, some officers praising him, while others condemn his actions. Norman Osborn of Oscorp even gave a public statement on the Spider-Man, stating "The real question we need to ask ourselves is how we allowed our society to grow so cancerous that men like Spider-Man need to be who we look up to. How did the people of New York allow this great city to get so crime ridden that a costumed freak becomes our city's hero?"

Everyone in the city has a different story to Spider-Man. Some saw him as a savior, others a criminal in his own right. Some wanted him behind bars, while others believed he's doing the right thing. At the end of the day though, there's a question the people of New York need to ask themselves: What would your life be like without Spider-Man? Could you even imagine a world without the web shooting hero? In just two years of being here, the Spider-Man has become as much a landmark of New York as the Statue of Liberty, so is it even possible for you to go back to what your lives were like without him? Could you actually stand to lose such an icon?

If you answered yes then I appreciate your honesty for what it is worth. There are not many in this city that would share your sentiment it would seem. When surveyed, I found that over 86% of middle to lower class Americans living within Queens could not, at present, imagine a world without the Spider-Man. He's influenced their lives so heavily that some have even made major life choices because of the hope he's inspired. I met with recovered addicts, reformed criminals, and even an anonymous former villain of Spider-Man's looking to atone for his actions by helping rebuild sections of New York that were destroyed in his most previous attack.

It's looks easy to say that without Spider-Man, New York will be a very different place. He's always been a symbol of the what anyone can do to change the world, that even one person can make such a massive difference. There will never again be a hero quite like him. The people of New York will never forget your sacrifice. We miss you Spider-Man.

-Ben Urich, Journalist

Ben Urich Article 312 taken from American Records and Document dating back to May of 2018, One Month after the Temporal Crisis.

Two men hung over the holographic projection of the document, its blue glow casting the only light in the room. They spoke to one another, their voices hushed.

"You know what this means don't you?"

"Of course."

"Then you know what needs to be done?"

"The council would never-"

"The council doesn't understand the ramifications. Even now their failed Empire beats down on our doors. We need to act."

"If we do this, there's no going back. Are you sure about this?" Sirens sped past the building, followed closely by a thundering explosion that shook dust from the ceiling.

"Just look outside if you are uncertain of our crusade." The first man walked to a nearby window, cracked from years of abuse and worn from time. "This is our alternative." With a wave of his hand, the first man brought attention to a scene the second man was more than familiar with.

Outside was nothing but metal and chaos. Fires bellowed from pores in the streets, ragged civilians clutching their children as they fled from the metal men chasing them. Large vessels from the skies bombarded derelict buildings with plasma cannons from above, weeding out the pathetic opposition. Foolhardy resistance fighters in the streets tickled the hides of these goliaths with stolen weaponry, only to be silenced by the steel drones amidst their chase of the scurrying masses.

"Do really want to wait for the council's permission? The same council who authorized these forces to begin with?"

"I...No, you're need this done immediately. I just don't understand why you can't come with me. You know the time period better than I do. It's where you were from, wasn't it?" The first man pulled out a small device from his cloak, attaching several smaller pieces to it as the fires raged outside.

"You know why, son. The radiation this device emits would...I might…"

"I know Dad. I just thought that maybe you'd have found a way to-"

"There wasn't time. It could only work on one person anyway." The father prepared the device on the floor, hooking spare cables up to the holographic panel of Ben Urich's article.

"When you get there, look for a man named Reed Richards. He'll understand everything."

"You're sure?" The son stood on the platform his father had constructed.

"He always did. Trust me, when you explain everything to him, it'll probably make perfect sense to him alone." The blasts started to get closer.

"An what about you? Should I-"

"Don't look for me, please."

"But-"

"Trust me when I tell you I was a very different man back then. Just trust me, alright. Now are you ready?" The son took a deep breath.

"Yes dad." His father prepared the device, now only a single switch to activate the chronometer.

"This might be a one way trip, so I just wanted to tell you-"

"Dad, I'm going to come back. You said it yourself, that time was full of some of the greatest geniuses of all time. I'm sure there'll be a way to send me back." The building shook again, the electric whirring of the machines now audible from just outside the walls.

"I just want you to know how much I love you." Tears welled in his father's eyes, a sentiment his son shared.

"I love you to Dad."

"Anthony Amadeus Banner, whatever happens I'm proud of you." His father flipped the switch and the machine began to circle energy around Anthony. The process was not immediate, but required him to remain absolutely still. As it began working, the wall in front of him exploded inward, debris landing just short of the device.

"I'll take care of them, don't move!" His father approached the androids, removing his glasses. Drones made of various metals approached, their faces that of nightmarish skulls frozen in anger.

"Resistance will not be tolerated," the machines declared in a monotone voice.

"Yeah, I'll do more than just resist." Steven watched as his father's body grew four times its normal size, his skin turning a deep green. The androids began to fire, but their weapons had no visible effected as they pelted into the radioactive last thing Anthony heard was his father's final monstrous declaration.

"Hulk! Smash!"

With that Anthony was swallowed into a void, every one of his cells vibrating faster than light. He could feel all of it, every second making his whole body burn white hot. He felt like his body would tear under the sudden stress and pressure of the travel, until just like that it all stopped.

All of his senses were bombarded at once, a flash over his eyes while white noise filled his ears. His vision recovered first, taking in his surroundings. A small office room, awards and framed stories of note lining the walls. To his side was a terrified bald man with glasses sitting in a swivel chair. Papers settled from their flight, that the travel must've caused. His ears filled out the excess noise after only a moment.

"-was that?"It was the bald man asking him something.

"What?"

"What the hell was that? What-I-Uh-What just happened here?" Catching one of the flying paper, Anthony read the name of the journalist who'd written the piece.

"Ben Urich? You're Ben Urich?"

"Yeah, who the hell are you?

"It's a long story, but first things first: What day is it?"

"Uh-why-I- Okay sure. September. Third."

"Year?"

"Twenty Seventeen."

"Good. There's still time." The reporter started to stand from his chair.

"Time for..?

"To prevent the death of Spider-Man."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"PETER!" Startled, the young Parker kid whipped his head off of his computer desk, drool slipping from his mouth. In front of him was a essay document, blank. He'd meant to finish it last night, but had only typed up his name and class period before crashing the night before.

"Oh crap."

"Peter! I won't ask you again," the voice rang from through the walls.

"Coming Aunt May!" He closed the laptop shut, sliding it into his bag. As he went to get up from his chair, he nearly tripped over a network of wires wrapped around his chair. Hobbling from his desk, he managed to grab a pair of jeans from his laundry basket before falling onto his creaky bed. Figuring they were clean enough, he changed them out for the ones he was already wearing, ones that had been shredded thanks to his late night activities the night before.

Slinging his bag over one shoulder, Peter raced downstairs, each of the wooden steps giving just a little beneath his weight, but bowing back after his exit. A quick turn later, and he was in the dining room with Aunt May, two plates of hot wheat cakes sitting on the table.

"Sorry May, I was just-" Upon seeing him, May's face turned to subdued horror.

"Peter?!" She raised a gentle hand towards his face. "Who did this to you?" It was as she was touching just beneath his left eye that Peter even realized he had a black eye, yet another consequence from last night.

"It's fine, May. Honest." Her face quickly turned to a protective anger, the kind only folks past a certain age are even capable.

"It most certainly is not fine, Peter Benjamin Parker. Was it that football player Flash Thompson again? I tell you what, your school has absolutely no-"

"May, it wasn't Flash, I promise." Peter slouched over his breakfast food, trying his best to huddle his body away from May's verbal display.

"Well then what happened?" May finally sat back down, as Peter filled his mouth with food, stalling his answer for as long as he could. Unfortunately, he couldn't wait forever.

"I...Tripped." May's body fluttered in disbelief.

"You tripped? Really?" He gave a weak shrug, trying his best to accept even his own lie.

"Yeah, you know how I'm always such a clutz and I-" May held up a hand, silencing him before he started to pick up vocal speed.

"Just...No. Peter, tell me the truth." There was a beat where he tried his hardest to look vaguely offended at her insinuation. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm...Not." Even he didn't buy how weak that was. _Jeez Peter_ , he thought, _way to really convince her. Seriously. Way to go._

There was a loud pressurized noise just outside the front door, causing Peter to bolt.

"Love you, May." The bus had just arrived outside, meaning he needed to go immediately. He hated leaving things like that with her, but what else was he supposed to do? After everything she'd been through, it was better this way.

Outside the bus had just started pulling away, but lurched back as Peter came bursting out the door. The driver swung open the door, exchanging the usual pleasantries.

"Sup squirt," the mustached man said with a friendly grin.

"Hey Mr. Fernandez. How's Benjamin been doing?"

"Better. Thanks for that suggestion by the way, those meds really did the trick."

"Yeah, well dogs usually-"

"Yo! Can we get a move on," Flash Thompson yelled from the back of the bus. His red letterman was visible even from back here, let alone his entourage of fellow varsity players. Mr. Fernandez gave Peter an apologetic look.

"We can talk later, bud." He swung the door shut and drove away from the curb. Peter began his slow crawl down the bus, knowing that he was trying in vain to find an empty seat. Sure, tons of spots had room, but who would want to sit with Peter Parker, a kid who since Freshmen year had become synonymous with the science club and the mathletes. Even if he was a junior now, Peter knew this year was still going to be just as hard as ever other.

Eventually he spotted someone he hadn't seen on the bus before, at least not anyone he'd ever recognized. She looked very prim and proper, straight blonde hair down to her shoulder,held by a black band with reading glasses perched on her nose. As he nervously approached, Peter realized she was reading Shakespeare's Hamlet, not even noticing him.

"Eck-Excuse me?" He pushed up his own loose glasses as she turned her attention towards him. In an instant Peter was dumbfounded by her natural elegance. Sure she wore a little makeup here and there, but not nearly as much as most girls from Midtown High did. He was so caught off guard that he hadn't prepared what to say next.

"Yes?" Her voice snapped him to the realization that he looked like a mess, a two day old shirt that was too baggy for him, jeans from the hamper, and - oh crap- he'd even forgotten his belt at home. His jeans had only just started sagging beneath his waist as he caught them from behind. Clearing his throat, he decided to finally answer her.

"I- well, I was wondering if this spot was taken? Or if Maybe I could..." He trailed off weakly as she gave a small chuckle from behind her book.

"Sure, sit down." Peter fell into the seat cushion, straightening out his shirt the best he could, putting his bag over his lap. After a brief moment of awkward silence, he realized she'd gone back to reading her book. Against his better judgement, he decided to keep talking.

"Whatcha got there?"

"Shakespeare," she replied, not looking up.

"Cool." He saw from his peripheral vision as she raised an eyebrow.

"You read Shakespeare?"

"Yeah," he lied, just a weakly as when he'd asked for the seat. Even with her attention split, she must've caught on.

"Really? What's your favorite of his?" Gobsmacked, he held his mouth open for a few seconds before answering.

"...Romeo and...Juliet?" She closed her book, turning her full attention to him.

"Really? That's your got to book?" Even though she was on him now, there was a smile on her face.

"I mean, yeah. What's not to love?" She squinted at him for a moment, then shook her head.

"You've never read it have you?"

"What? No, of course I have." _It was in last year's curriculum. Everyone had to read it._

"Yeah? Who's Tybalt?" Peter barely recalled the name.

"He was the guy who...Romeo killed. Right?" She chuckled again.

"Yes. Yes you're right." Peter chuckled too, relieved he wasn't being outright laughed off. She wasn't being cruel, for all his awkward struggling, she was just calling him out. If she'd feigned interest in Physics, he'd probably have done the same thing. Not that a girl as pretty as she was would ever want to impress **him**.

The bus came to a stop just outside the school, the door of the vehicle sliding open. The first few rows began to leave, and Peter knew this might be the last time he could ever see her again. Even if it was a new year, being seen with him would be popularity suicide. He decided that if he was going to go for broke, now was the time.

"Name's Peter by the way...Parker! Peter Parker. There's a Peter Barker that goes here and trust me that gets a little, well…" He trailed off, her laughter continuing the needed beat of conversation. Standing up to exit, she replied.

"Name's Gwen. Stacy in case you have a Gwen...I don't know, Lacey?" Peter made way, allowing her to pass in front of him, in a small chivalrous gesture. She glided by, and as she went gave him a wink. "Guess I'll see you around." He watched innocently as she made her way off the bus, not moving from where he'd been standing.

He must have been stunned in puppy love for a little too long, because suddenly there was a gust of air from beneath him. Looking down, his pants hand fallen to the floor, the crowd in the back of the bus cackling with laughter, chief in front of them being Flash Thompson.

"Oh my god, way to go Parker! This beats the hell out of that time at the Spring science fair!" This fraction of the football team laughed and laughed, and throughout the day would share the story with the rest of the team, who'd share it with the cheer squad, who'd share it with Dance, who told Drama club all about it, and on and on it'd go until eventually it'd leak all the way down to Peter's science and robotics club. It hadn't even taken till the end of fourth period for it to make it all the way back to him. _What a way to start the year._


End file.
